Welcome back to Left of The Dial! This week, we will be taking a look at American Love Story by Butch Walker. Butch Walker is a musician and producer who was born and raised in Cartersville, Georgia, and now resides in Malibu, California. He debuted as a solo artist in 2002 but he has been playing in multiple bands since the 1980’s, highlights being SouthGang and Marvelous 3, formed in 1988 and 1997 respectively. 1997 was also the beginning of Walker’s career as a producer, beginning with Marvelous 3’s debut album Math and Other Problems. His most recent credit, as of writing this, is American Love Story.
Walker wrote, performed, and produced the record mostly on his own, with some additional credits. Drums were provided by Mark Stepro, and keyboards by Roger Joseph Manning Jr. and Christopher Wray. Additional vocals were provided on some tracks by Paris Jackson and Annie Bosko, as well as by Stepro and Wray. American Love Story was released in May 2020, making it his ninth solo studio album. The record is presented as “a love story about hate,” according to Walker, meaning we’re dealing with a rock opera. This isn’t the first time we’ve explored rock opera territory; Green Day’s 21st Century Breakdown is the first one I’ve reviewed for LOTD. For those of you who don’t know what a rock opera is, it’s a term for a rock-leaning album with a prominent narrative tying the songs together. Some are loosey-goosey with the story beats, like 21st Century Breakdown, while others are much more straightforward, like American Love Story. In fact, if you own a physical copy of this record, be it a CD or vinyl, the story is printed on the back of the packaging. I highly recommend that you keep this story on hand with you during your first listen, as the added context will make the music more enjoyable. If you can’t find it though, don’t sweat it; I’ll describe the story as it applies to each track. So without further ado, let’s explore this love story together!
Side 1
Side 1 contains “The Singer,” “Gridlock,” “Flyover State,” “6Ft Middle-Age American Man,” “F*** It (I Don’t Like Love),” “Divided States of America,” and “Out in the Open.”
“The Singer” is the opening track. It begins with the repeated phrase “Are we having a conversation?” from a multitude of voices. They speak over each other as the voices grow more distorted and chaotic. Around the 43 second mark, the chorus falls silent as Walker’s vocals begin proper. Accompanied with a simple piano melody, he introduces us to The Singer, as I’ll be referring to him for the time being. The Singer explains his job, which is of course to be a singer, though some don’t see it as a proper career. Walker’s melancholic tone lets us know that The Singer is dealing with some issues, which will make more sense later. Periodically, we continue to hear voices asking “Are we having a conversation?” in the background.
As the song concludes, it bleeds into “Gridlock.” Here, we’re introduced to another character, Bo, who will serve as our protagonist for the rest of the album. Bo is suffering from a lack of motivation and direction in his life. Gridlock is used as a metaphor for his situation, in the sense that his life is backed up with mental hang-ups, like city blocks getting backed up from traffic. Bo confesses that “collisions are all I know” to describe the way his beliefs clash with so many of the people around him. This is spelled out in the final moments of the track, where we catch an excerpt of a show called ‘Both Sides of the Coin’ where Bo discusses his beliefs with a girl named Annie. Their dialogue is played simultaneously to emphasize their differences, which shows us that Bo’s beliefs are rooted in hatred toward anyone different than him, in stark contrast to Annie’s love-based beliefs. They both describe the sound of freedom at the end of the track. Annie describes it as church bells at a gay couple’s wedding, and Bo expresses it by cocking his gun.
“Flyover State” gives us another side of Bo, showing more of his insecurities. He describes his town as a “storybook town,” which in his eyes is one that relies on holding up conservative beliefs and punishing those who challenge said beliefs. His arrogance is fragile though, as he says he cries about his dissatisfaction with his life when nobody’s around. He later admits he feels “like shit, honestly” and wants help, only to twist it around in a panicked attempt to cover up his vulnerability and take a dig at the people who aren’t miserable like him. His contradictory nature is illustrated in the way “Flyover State” cribs elements from “The Lion Sleeps Tonight,” a Zulu song from South Africa that was appropriated by American musicians in the 1950s and notoriously mistreated the original writer by not paying him royalties. Once again, the lyrics are rewritten for “Flyover State,” changing the famous Zulu chant to “freedom dumb my way” in an act of parody, though the final chorus of the song uses the original English verses. It’s a clever way to show how Bo’s beliefs mirror the racist aspects of United States history.His
“6Ft Middle-Age American Man” is an anthem for hateful people like Bo. While some lines could apply to him, they’re written in a way that they could fit anyone who has these kinds of beliefs. There’s a hypocritical air to the lyrics, such as how it describes the titular man enjoying Kanye West’s music, yet he locks the door because his food delivery guy is possibly Muslim. He also says “My Jesus wore a frown and a red ball cap, Raising my children not to question that,” an obvious comment on President Donald Trump and the unflinching loyalty he demands from his fans. The root of these problems is made clear with the lines “Just like my daddy and his before,” and “Raising my children not to question that.” These people are raised to uphold their beliefs and never change, which results in a vicious cycle with their children being taught the same ideas. It does hint at how Bo’s story will progress following this track.
“F*** It (I Don’t Like Love)” is a peek behind the curtain at Bo’s childhood. His father was absent for a lot of his life and he was subject to both physical and sexual abuse from his family. He wasn’t educated on sex properly, so he ended up impregnating a girl early into high school, which resulted in him being beaten with a bible by his parents. He was never treated with love growing up, so he developed a hatred for love made clear in the chorus, as it repeats the track’s title. It’s a little repetitive, but the composition helps it feel less so.
“Divided States of America” illustrates the beginning of a low point for Bo. His car is in the shop and he’s left to walk to work in the rain. The motorcycle shop he’s working for is about to close down, and he’s miserable at the idea that the work will be outsourced to “an alien from somewhere else” and that his Ford is being repaired with parts from China. He’s beginning to see the cracks in the image of a perfect Americana that was sold to him. The song ends with a coming-out speech, which would be a punch in the gut to someone with deep-seeded homophobia like Bo.
The themes of homophobia continue in “Out in The Open,” changing the perspective from Bo to Willard, a gay boy that grew up with and was bullied by Bo. Despite all the hate he was shown, Willard doesn’t have any malice toward him, and could see that Bo’s hatred was born from his abusive upbringing. In present day, Willard comes across the wreckage from a car accident on the way back from a party. He finds Bo almost dead in the middle of it and rescues him. Bo experiences a moment of clarity, realizing the irony in how the person he was taught to hate would end up saving his life, then how wrong he was to be so hateful toward Willard. The two share an emotional moment, which I admit nearly gets me in tears every time, where Bo apologizes for how he was raised and expresses how he wants to be compassionate to people, whether or not it goes against his previous beliefs. It’s a potently resonant way to end Side 1.
Side 2
Side 2 contains “Torn in the USA,” “Blinded by the White,” “Everything White,” “Pretty Crazy,” “You Gotta Be Just Who You Are,” and “Forgot to Say I Love You.”
“Torn in the USA” begins by referencing the opening of “The Singer,” with Walker asking “Well, are we having a conversation?” before the instruments come in. The song expresses the confusion people like Bo feel regarding the generational gap. They describe how their kids listen to hip-hop and don’t have a great relationship. It illustrates how hateful people use their hatred in leu of a personality, and therefore have no personality left to connect with others who are different from them.
“Blinded by the White” is an interlude that bleeds into “Everything White.” There’s not much to note about the prior track, it’s 35 seconds long and features snippets of songs with lyrics more or less similar to the title joined together with radio static. The latter track is where things get more fascinating. At this point, Bo is recovering from his accident in the hospital, and he’s realizing how whiteness is everywhere in his life. Everything’s white, from “the privilege on my street” to “the only Beatle album better than Let It Be.” I haven’t mentioned it much, but a lot of these songs are sprinkled with hints of snarky humor and sarcasm that say a lot about Walker and his perspective on life. It works incredibly well on American Love Story, because writing from the perspective of a hateful white American can easily be taken out of context and appropriated by other hateful white Americans if the material isn’t handled correctly. Walker gets past the moral ambiguity by not being afraid to speak from the perspective of people like Bo, while also keeping a healthy air of sarcasm and humor in his writing to emphasize that he doesn’t endorse Bo’s hateful beliefs.
Moving on, “Pretty Crazy” is the next track. Bo has met a girl that he’s fallen head-over-heels for named Paris. She’s wild and free-spirited, and the perfect woman to help Bo learn to get comfortable with loving. Her beauty is only matched by her craziness, and Bo is happy to let her be both. From both a writing and composition perspective, “Pretty Crazy” sticks out from the rest of the album. It’s more in line with Walker’s usual writing style that you would find in his previous albums, and the instrumentals are more upbeat and unapologetically sunny than the other tracks we’ve discussed so far. Sure, “F*** It” could give “Pretty Crazy” a run for its money in that sense, but the tone there is an ironic contrast to the dark subject matter of the lyrics. “Pretty Crazy” marries the upbeat music with the lovey-dovey lyrics without a hint of irony to be seen, which is a welcome break from the dark territory we’ve navigated up to this point. It also highlights a high point of Bo’s life, where it’s beginning to change for the better, so it still works well with the main story.
“You Gotta Be Just Who You Are” brings our final important character into the world, literally. This is Brad, Bo and Paris’ son, and his birth opens the track. Bo expresses how proud he is of his son and everything he does, telling him to be himself and not let others sway him. It’s a stark contrast to how Bo acted at the beginning of the record, showing how much he’s grown since then. As the song progresses, we get some hints at how close they are as father and son, with Bo being able to explain his past and Brad being able to come out of the closet and be supported. Remember the coming out speech from “Divided States of America?” I believe that was foreshadowing for when Brad comes out in this track. I can’t confirm that it was him speaking in the previous track, but I still give props for continuity.
The final track of American Love Story is “Forgot to Say I Love You.” The melancholy tone is a bad sign that Bo’s story has taken a dark turn since Brad was born. Paris has passed away from cancer, and Bo is describing how life has changed since then. Brad has married his boyfriend and become a touring musician. Bo recalls that one of his dreams with Paris was to tour the country together, and he’s now fulfilling that dream by joining Brad on tour. They also bring Paris’ ashes with the intention of spreading them in each state. It seems his biggest regret was not telling her he loved her before she died, which is gut-wrenching for anybody. It somehow hits harder here because Bo took so long to learn to love. I hate to say it, but I cried like a baby listening to this song. Walker has always had a way of hitting me where it hurts with his music in a way that’s hard to explain. I’ve been a lifelong fan of Butch’s music, and hearing his songs about aging and the unexpected tragedies of life while learning to accept that my own family is aging is painfully relatable to me and my fears. Returning to the song, Bo doesn’t let his regrets consume him. He moves on with his life like Paris would have wanted, while also bonding further with his son. The track concludes with a reprise of “The Singer,” where it’s revealed that The Singer was indeed Brad. He thanks his parents for allowing him to be the person he’s always wanted to be.
Overall, American Love Story is a beautiful record that tackles the subject of hatred vs love in a wholly unique way. My top three tracks would be “Flyover State,” “Out in the Open,” and “Pretty Crazy,” with an honorable mention to “Forgot to Say I Love You” purely based on tears shed. I couldn’t pick any bottom tracks for this record if I tried, so I don’t have any this time.
Rating: 9.5/10
Feature Photo by Becca Fauteux